Marching on
by myrtillez
Summary: An accident forces Beckett and Castle to reevaluate their relationship
1. Chapter 1

**My first Castle fic. I don't know where it came from. I haven't written a FF in a while, I must be rusty. But hopefully it will come back to me.**  
**Being French, I apologize in advance for any English mistakes (there shouldn't be that many) but as I do not have a beta reader (yet? I accept applications hehe) I may use a certain turn of phrase awkwardly at times. Feel free to let me know, any criticism is welcome. **

**This is starting out as a rather depressing story, but I promise it gets better. I am a very (very!) big Caskett fan so there will eventually be some of that further into the story. **

**Hope you enjoy. And comments are very welcome :)**

A high kick shook the punching ball and was followed by a series of punches.  
Kate smiled.  
These past few days she hadn't had a chance to come train early in the morning. Their latest case had forced her to work into the wee hours of the night and she had foregone early training for a few more hours of sleep; she was only human after all.  
But this morning she had once again set her alarm to 5:30. She had gotten up with a slight smile on her face, looking forward to her training session and the day that would follow. She had packed her bag for a day, swallowed a hot fresh coffee and headed to the precinct's gym.

An hour later she was still smiling. Sweat beads were rolling down her face, her neck, onto her torso, soaking her navy blue tank top but she didn't care. Her tensed muscles twitched, her breathing was ragged... she loved that feeling of sheer exhaustion. It was the best way to start her day.  
She looked at the clock on the wall. Almost seven.  
She grabbed her towel, trying to swab some of the sweat away and headed to the locker room.  
As she gathered her clothes before hitting the shower, she saw the beeping light on her phone.  
She had a message

* * *

The double doors flew open before her  
- WHERE IS SHE?  
Esposito appeared in front of her and tried to block her way.  
- Beckett...  
She stopped in front of her partner and glared at him.  
- Where? she asked again.  
She was about to yell some more when a small voice caught her attention behind her.  
- Kate...

_A whisper. A young girl in distress calling out for her._

Kate felt her heart sink some more. Alexis...  
She took a few steps towards the girl who flew into her arms. Surprised at first, Kate finally wrapped her arms around the young girl's body and held her tight.  
After all, she had made him a promise.

Kate closed her eyes. She hadn't realized how much she needed a hug until then.

A few minutes passed before Alexis released her tight grip around the detective's body.  
- I'm glad you're here  
Kate stroke the girl's damp cheek and attempted a smile.  
Behind them she finally noticed Martha rising up and walking towards them. The two women acknowledged each other in silence.  
- How is he?

_Was that her voice she had just heard? So weak. She wished her voice had been stronger, for Alexis' sake._

- We don't know. He is still in surgery.  
Kate felt Alexis pressing herself into her body again, wrapping her hands around her waist and burying her face into the woman's chest. She threaded her fingers in the girl's long red hair and stroke them soothingly.

* * *

_Why didn't she take her phone with her? She always took her phone with her._

_But she had wanted to take the morning off. To enjoy an uninterrupted training session. After all, every time her phone rang, it was to indicate the location of the latest dead body. Dead bodies could wait._  
_He couldn't._

_She should have woken up earlier. Usually she woke up earlier. She would have finished training earlier. She would have heard her phone ring._

_She shouldn't have taken such a long bath. She should have heated something up the freezer instead of wasting time ordering Chinese. But she loved Chinese. She shouldn't have started the latest Patterson's novel. She would have gone to sleep earlier. She would have woken up earlier. She would have heard her phone ring._

_

* * *

_

- Mrs Rodgers?  
Kate's head turn to the approaching surgeon.  
She tried to read him. But she saw nothing. She was New York's finest, the best in the interrogation room; capable of discerning the slightest show of emotion on her suspect's faces. But from the surgeon she got nothing. She cursed him for it.  
Martha passed by her to meet the surgeon halfway. And as Kate turned around she felt Alexis' hand slip into hers.  
- He's going to be fine.

_That relieved sigh, was it hers or Alexis'?_

- He was very lucky. He suffered significant blood loss but we were able to transfuse immediately upon arrival. Thankfully the knife didn't hit any major organs if only for the ligament on his right shoulder. Mr Castle's right arm will be incapacitated for a while, but there is no permanent damage.

_The knife? Kate realized she still had no idea what she was doing here. What he was doing here._  
_The text she had received from Esposito only said "Castle injured. Lenox Hill. Come asap."_  
_A stabbing? What the hell had the writer gotten himself into? Probably tried to be a hero again. And what was he doing out so early in the morning? Probably coming home from one of his one-night stands._

_She was bothered. Irritated._  
_She decided she liked that feeling._  
_Yes, "irritated" was good, "irritated" was familiar; she could deal with "irritated"._

- Can we see him now?  
Alexis' shaky voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

_Yes. See him._  
_And possibly slap him._


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for your comments, really appreciate them. And as a few of you have mentioned adding quotation marks I did just that. Hopefully it makes it a little clearer. Let me know what you think. **

* * *

_delete_

He watched the words disappear as he hit the cursed button.  
He took his notepad and flipped through the pages. Pages upon pages of notes; on investigations, bodies, legal procedures; on detective Beckett, her team, their most memorable quotes...  
No, he didn't lack writing material. In fact he had enough notes to write at least ten more books. At least.  
So why couldn't he finish this damn book?  
He had his murder victim, his suspects, he already knew who had done it, how and why, he even knew what Nikki would have to go through to solve her case and how she would solve it. He really had it all planned out.  
So why couldn't he write?

Frustrated, he closed his eyes, cracked his neck, shook his fingers and placed them on the keyboard.  
He wrote a paragraph.

A siren rang in the distance and Castle looked out through the window. Night had settled in on New York a long time ago and yet the city still shone with thousands of lights. He loved New-York by night.  
He turned his attention back to the screen and wrote a few more sentences.  
He stopped. Read. Highlighted the whole paragraph. _Delete._  
A sigh.

He looked at his computer's watch. Three twenty. It was late.  
But he wasn't tired

* * *

He loved New-York by night. The city that never sleeps.

Absorbed by his thoughts of Nikki Heat he had let his feet lead him to the Library. He stopped to admire the building a moment. He had spent so many hours inside this sumptuous building, reading, studying, dreaming... He had come a long way since the time he'd spend hours buried behind a pile of books, seated at one of the wooden tables.

Behind him, he heard a train entering Grand Central station.

He looked at his watch. Four thirty, time to head back home.

He slipped his hands in his jacket's pockets; summer was approaching but the nights were still rather chilly.  
Sirens resonated in the night. A dog barked, a trunk drove by. Over there he could hear someone ruffling through garbage cans, over here the whimpers of a woman...  
He continued his walk, admiring New-York's architecture by night.

Whimpers?  
He stopped, turned around, listened. Another siren rang in the distance. A car passed by.  
He took a few steps, listening intently for any suspicious sounds. Had he imagined those whimpers? Because he could have sworn they sounded like a woman in distress.

Behind him a door flung open. He jumped and swirled around, muscles tensed, on alert. A man in overalls came out through the door.

Castle relaxed and castigated himself; he had definitely spent way too much time hanging out with the detective and her crew.

He hadn't imagined them. But he hadn't seen them either. Two men, bent over a third body, much smaller, leaner, a woman most certainly. In the dark alley, bent behind the trash bin, he hadn't seen them. He hadn't been careful.

_They_ had seen him though.

"Hey" came a man's voice behind him.

He turned back around, a slight smile on his face.

* * *

A distant voice was telling him to wake up. A man's voice. Why on earth was there a man in his apartment?

He tried to turn around, hide under the covers and bury his face in his pillow, but he couldn't move. He felt a throbbing pain in his stomach. What had he eaten the night before? A two-day-old pizza... Had it turned bad?

His bed seemed a little rough. He opened his eyes but all he could see were stars. And he could still hear that voice.

That annoying voice that disturbed him in his sleep.

His right hand slipped from his body onto the floor. Concrete? What on...?

The street... right, he remembered the street, a door opening behind him...

The ground was wet. He didn't remember the rain though.

He lifted his hand slightly and as his vision focused on his limb he saw the red liquid trickling down his arm. The movement caused an excruciating sharp pain in his shoulder.

* * *

Was it already Christmas that the twinkling lights were swirling all around him?

He heard a familiar sound, a siren.

New-york: its architecture, its shows, its pizzas...its sirens. This one seemed really close though. Maybe there had been a murder nearby. Maybe soon his phone would ring and Beckett would tell him to get out of this rather uncomfortable bed he was sleeping in.

_Beckett_...

* * *

"Dad?"

_He knew that voice. The voice of a young girl that would wake him up early on a Sunday morning demanding to be served pancakes._

He tried to open his eyes. What had he drunk the night before to be so hung over?

"Dad, can you hear me?"

He felt his daughter's hand squeeze his. It was time to wake up and open those eyes.

A vivid white light assaulted him. He closed them back immediately. This was not his room.

"Dad, you're okay!"

He felt his daughter throw herself onto him and then he felt a terrible pain in his side. He groaned.

"Oh dad, I'm so sorry"

He half opened his eyes as Alexis lifted herself off of him.

_His daughter, his beautiful daughter. She looked so pale; maybe it was this unflattering light. Her eyes were puffy and red. He knew that look. She'd cried. A lot._

_He swore to himself he'd break the legs of whoever was responsible for making his daughter cry._

_But...maybe later..._

* * *

"Richard"

_He knew that voice as well._

He reluctantly opened his eyes and they focused on his mother's figure standing there by his side.

"Thank god you're awake! You scared me to death you know!"

He looked around the room. This bed was not his, the walls were not his and the view... definitely not his.

_Wasn't he in the street just a few minutes ago?_

_The street. A sharp pain in his shoulder. A door opening behind him. A constant throbbing in his gut._

Martha saw the confusion on her son's face.

"Richard, honey, do you remember anything about last night?"

_He winced._

_He remembered._

_

* * *

_

When he opened his eyes again he found he was still in that dreadful hospital room.

Alexis was seated by him, a hand in his, her head resting on his bed.

When she felt him move she lifted her head and looked up at him.

"Hey pumpkin", came his first words, "why so grim?", he looked around dramatically, "did somebody die?"

The slight chuckle that came from his daughter was enough to make him forget his pain. Stabbing wounds? What stabbing wounds?

"Dad! I was so scared"

She flung herself in his arms again, being careful not to hurt him again. Castle rested his valid arm around her and caressed her face gently.

"I'm okay sweetheart. It's just a scratch."

He saw his mother behind them, smiling. She rose to her feet and left the room.

She came back moments later followed by a nurse and two men Castle immediately recognized.

As the nurse started talking, asking questions, making annotations his eyes remained fixated on the door.

_Kisses from his daughter, reassuring words from his mother, hand shakes from the two detectives, smiles, laughs even, voices that sounded more assured, faces that gained their color back..._

_A slight pang in his heart._

_She wasn't there._


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, couple of things before the story. **

**First, I just realized that in the two previous chapters the little signs I had added to signal a change of scene didn't work... no wonder it was hard to understand the story! Now however I've discovered the "add horizontal ruler" function so I've fixed the two previous chapters as well... sorry about that.  
**

**Second, I've played around some more with formatting adding _italic _for the characters' thoughts, which hopefully makes the text easier to read and understand. **

**And last but not least, thanks for your comments! ^^**

**On to the story then**

* * *

Martha took Alexis to the hospital's cafeteria. The young girl had refused to leave her father's side so long as he was still under, school day be damned. But Martha had insisted they at least went to the cafeteria to eat something. Not that she was particularly hungry herself and she suspected the same was true of her grand-daughter but the girl needed to be distracted. And food, seemed as good a distraction as any in a hospital.

Kate saw them leave from the corner of her eye while she was wrapping up her conversation with her two colleagues.

They had just filled her in on what had had happened to the writer and the murder victim in the alley. The case had been handed over to another detective.

"Alright, you two head back to the precinct. I know this is not our case but see if you can't give the guys over at the 6th a hand."

"What about you Beckett? Are you coming?" asked Esposito

"I..." she gave a quick glance towards the hospital room next to them "I'll catch up with you guys. I need to get changed anyway" she added, indicating her current attire.

When she had received the message on her phone she had grabbed her zip hoody and her purse and ran out the door. Consequently she was still wearing a pair of sneakers, her sweat pants and her sweat-soaked navy blue tank top. It felt rather uncomfortable. But she didn't care.

Both detectives nodded in understanding and left.

She looked at the open door of the room beside her again. She hadn't been inside yet.

She knew he was fine though. She had been standing in the doorway when he opened his eyes for the first time. But she hadn't stepped inside. Too many people.

That was her excuse anyway.

Now she was all alone. So what?

She let out a long breathe and stepped into the room. She sat in Alexis' chair by his bed and reflexively took his hand. Her thoughtless action surprised her and she stared at their touching hands for a moment. Her hand fit surprisingly well in his bigger one. She smiled a little at that thought. And then furiously castigated herself for it.

"You're an idiot, " came her first words, followed by, "a mindless jerk. And a fool. What you did was completely mindless, and stupid, and reckless, and..."

The tear that dropped on her lap stopped her next words.

She swallowed hard fighting the tears that threatened to follow suit.

"Haven't you learnt anything from following us?", she continued, with a softer voice, "from following me?"

Another tear fell on her lap.

Struck with the realization that she was crying over him she let go of his hand and wiped the tears away from her face. She took a deep breath and straightened herself up.

"This is not happening" she muttered to herself.

She looked at the man lying on his hospital bed; he seemed to be smiling, mocking her for crying no doubt, even in his morphine induced slumber.

_There it was again, that irritated feeling._

_

* * *

_

Her tires screeched as she came out of the parking lot and took a sharp left into the street.

She turned on her flashing light and siren, speeding through the streets of New-York. Screw procedure. It was seven in the morning and the streets of New-York were already packed with people going to work.

Her heart was pounding, her breathing was heavy and she felt somewhat light headed.

_This was not happening. This was a nigthmare and eventually she'd wake up from it. _

_It wouldn't be the first time she'd have such a nightmare. Various scenari all leading to the same outcome: her losing him. _

_She'd never given much thoughts to her nightmares. With all the death that she dealt with on a daily basis she was bound to dream about such things. She'd dreamt about Esposito's and Ryan's deaths before..._

She hit the brakes hard as a light turned red in front of her.

_Or did she? _

_And it wasn't just about death. Sometimes she just saw him... leaving. Giving up on his Nikki Heat series, on his research... giving up on her. _

_After dreams like these she was always in a particularly foul mood the following day and particularly nasty to Castle. More so than usual. _

_He annoyed her so much though. Such an egotistical, self-absorbed, arrogant man._

_Lanie's voice rang in her head: and fun. _

As she turned into another street and avoided crashing into a double-parked delivery truck she smiled slightly at the thought.

_Yes, Castle could be fun, too. _

_Hadn't she told him so herself? That having him around made her job a little more fun? It did. He did. _

_As annoying as he was she couldn't deny that somehow he also made her feel...good. Something she hadn't felt in a long time. In fact she hadn't felt much of anything over the past few years._

_No, she couldn't lose him. _

_

* * *

_

She rose up and leaned over his body. She lingered there a moment, observing his features. He really was a handsome man.

She sighed.

"You shouldn't have come into my life Castle" she whispered before leaning over to drop the slightest of kisses on his forehead and walking out of the room.

* * *

Becket slammed her phone down in frustration.

She got up and strode to the captain's office.

"I want this case sir."

He looked up from his file.

"Pardon me?"

"The murdered woman in the alley. I want it."

"Beckett..."

"Sir", she interrupted, "I have spent the whole afternoon on the phone being told I couldn't get this or that file, this or that lab result... I need answers."

"Beckett I can't just ask the 6th to pass over the file like that..."

"Why the hell not?"

Upon seeing his surprised and slightly unhappy look she softened her tone.

"Sir, I'm the best..." she stated "put me on the case. Please."

His features softened as well, recognizing the need in his detective's voice.

"Even if I wanted to Beckett, there are procedures to follow"

"I'm sure the _mayor _wouldn't mind if we skipped procedures to try and find the men responsible for his friend's near death experience" she countered.

Captain Montgomery frowned at her. Trying his best to look offended by her implications. But the truth was, he wanted her to have the case just as badly. Castle was, after all, part of the family now.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do".

She thanked him and had started to walk out when he called her back.

"Beckett? You can take off to see him if you want to, you know?"

She just looked at him, surprised and slightly embarassed.

"I... I feel a lot more useful here." she stammered.

_Well at least it was partially true._

"Plus he's got good company; Esposito and Ryan just left to see him." she added for good measure.

The captain just nodded, understanding Kate Beckett better than she thought he did.

* * *

She yawned. What time was it?

She looked at the clock on the wall. Past eight pm already.

Her stomach growled. What had she eaten today? Half a donut, half a sandwich and lots of coffee.

When they had finally received the case file at the precinct she had spent the afternoon studying every single detail, making phone calls, recovering the lab results, the autopsy report and filing warrant requests... But there was still so much to be done, so many leads to investigate.

She gave a frustrated sigh. At this time of the day, she wasn't going to get any more work done.

She closed the file and stuck a note on it for Esposito and Ryan.

* * *

"I'm sorry ma'am visiting hours are over."

She looked down the corridor at the closed door of his room then back at the nurse. She sighed.

_She knew visiting patients wasn't allowed after a certain time. So why had she come to the hospital so late? When she had gotten in her car she had been so lost in her thoughts, already planning the work that needed to be done the next day that she had driven through the city without thinking. It was only when she had seen the big red neon letters that she had realized where she was._

_Why did she need to see him so badly? After all Ryan and Esposito had already told him he had awaken, that he was fine and was already making jokes about the whole thing... A definite sign that he was doing well. And seeing Castle would certainly not help in her investigation. Her two colleagues had already taken his statement earlier in the day during their visit. No he was useless to the investigation at this point._

_So why? _

'Because you care', came a little voice in her head.

_Yes she cared. She cared deeply. And it scared her. _

"Would you like us to let him know you came?"

The nurse's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"No," came the immediate response "No, I... I'll come back tomorrow."

_Yes. Tomorrow._


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

_Three days._

_He had spent three days in his hospital room, discovering the variety of programmes broadcast on American television in the afternoon. Three days having to swallow tasteless meals. Three days having to be bathed by a nurse... Ok, that part didn't bother him so much._

_If only he had used his forced time in bed to write, maybe these past days wouldn't have been such a waste. His mother had even brought his laptop over in case he had been inspired. But except for a few useless sentences and some minor corrections, he hadn't written much of anything._

_But what had made those three days particularly painful was the fact that she hadn't come._

_At first he'd been hurt by her absence then he grew worried, thinking that maybe something bad had happened to her and no one dared to tell him. But when Ryan and Esposito swore on various lives – including theirs - that she was alive and well, he'd gone back to being hurt, and confused._

_He had been over every single conversation they'd had before the incident, trying to remember if he'd said or done something to upset her before that night. But there was nothing. _

_In the end, he had given up trying to understand. But he promised himself he would ask her as soon as he'd see her again. She wouldn't be able to avoid him long once he'd be out of there._

He rose to his feet with a wince and finished pulling up his pants to button them. But the task turned out to be a lot more complicated than expected with just one valid arm. When the button slipped away from his grip for the nth time, he cursed.

_Maybe he should have accepted that Alexis miss class today to help him get home. Or that Martha cancel her romantic getaway with Chet. Maybe he should just call a nurse for help._

A knock on his door.

* * *

She took a deep breathe and pushed the door open.

Her eyes immediately went to the bed; which was empty.

And then she saw him standing behind the bed, facing her, looking surprised.

She noticed he was only wearing an unbuttoned pair of jeans. And of their own accord, her eyes travelled down his bare chest to the large white bandage on his side. She mentally winced. Then her eyes slowly, appreciatively, travelled back up to his face where she saw him look at her curiously, with one raised eyebrow.

_She felt her cheek warm up. Was she seriously blushing?_

"Good morning Castle."

_She thanked her voice for sounding confident._

"Beckett."

_The way he said her name... His tone was a lot different than usual._

_A tinge of bitterness perhaps?_

_After all, why not, he had every right to be upset with her. Hadn't she waited a whole three days before deciding to visit him in the hospital? And even then, part of her had wished he'd have been gone already and she'd have found an empty room... Of course he'd be upset. _

_For a long time, Castle had been dealing with her constant teasing and verbal attacks, the only defence mechanism she knew against what she felt when he was around. It was expected that one day he'd have enough of it all and decide it wasn't worth it anymore, that **she** wasn't worth it. _

_She had gone too far this time. She'd actually hurt him._

_Maybe her worse nightmare was finally coming true. She was going to lose him._

As he tried once more to button his jeans, she took a hesitant step into the room.

"Do you need some help with that?"

He looked up at her once more with surprise. Probably taken aback by her words. The words had surprised her herself.

Since he chose not to answer she moved toward him, with more confidence.

As she reached his side, he turned to face her.

_At least, he didn't turn his back on her._

When she had buttoned the jeans, she raised her eyes to his and only then did she realize just how close they were. So close she could hear his heart beat, really fast... or was it hers? He looked right down back at her and it made her uncomfortable.

She immediately cast her eyes downwards, but did not move to get away from him.

She noticed her hands were still holding on to the helm of his jeans.

_Maybe not the best place to look at the moment._

So she raised her eyes slightly to the bandage protecting his wounds and soon her hands followed the movement of her eyes, lightly touching the white fabric.

Her throat tightened and her eyes were starting to burn her again.

"I'm so sorry" she whispered so low he couldn't hear it. Or so she hoped.

She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, pushing back the tears that were threatening to spill. Then she looked up.

"Do you need help with your shirt?" grabbing the black shirt that lay on his bed.

He gave her a warm smile.

_At last, she saw that smile again._

* * *

He observed her as she helped him into his shirt. Her slender fingers skillfully closing the buttons of the shirt despite the fact that one of his arms was trapped under the fabric.

_Had he imagined it or had she really whispered an apology? But for what? Did she apologize for his present state? No, why would she be sorry for that, it wasn't her fault after all. For not coming to visit earlier maybe? It would be more likely. And why hadn't she come? Always the same question. He really needed to know._

_But he also knew Kate and knew that a direct approach was not effective at all with her. No, he would get his answer eventually, but now was not the right time to ask._

"You know, I've often dreamt of this moment."

She looked up from her task and looked at him with those beautiful green eyes that could hide so many emotions, so many mysteries. He almost forgot was he meant to say next. Almost.

"Except in my dreams you were taking the shirt _off._"

The glare that she gave him lacked its threatening tone as a smile appeared on her lips.

_At last, he saw that smile again._

_

* * *

_

He turned the key in the lock and the door opened. Not forgetting his manners – at least not today – he held the door while she stepped inside his loft.

"Thank you, detective, for the ride home."

She simply smiled.

"Where do you want me to put your bag?" she asked, his small travel bag in one hand.

"Just leave it there, it's fine."

She put down the bag and stayed on her spot, next to the door, not moving. She slid her hands in her pockets and looked around, unsure what to do next.

* * *

_He noticed she hadn't followed him. He knew she was about to leave. Leave him again. He had just gotten her back, he wasn't ready to let her go so soon._

"You know what? I am dying for a coffee. Did you know they don't serve any to patients in hospitals? It's torture I'm telling you!"He set his jacket on the couch and turned to face Beckett who hadn't moved.

"Care to join me detective?"

* * *

She looked at her watch, trying to find a reason to leave. It was eleven in the morning. She had every reason to leave, to go back to the precinct and type some reports... When she looked back at him she saw his hopeful look, almost pleading. Reports could wait.

"Alright." She stepped into the living area and lay her jacket over his. "But _I_ make the coffee. With one arm I'm afraid you'll break something."

She moved into the kitchen and got to work.

"Fine by me."

He sat on a high stool and observed her as she made them coffee.

* * *

_She felt his look on her back. _

_She knew that if she turned around she'd see that look; that look that so often rendered her powerless, those eyes that captivated her so... How many times did she dream of drowning in those deep blue eyes that looked at her with so much admiration, so much kindness. _

_But ff she turned around, would she still see that admiration or would she see the reproach, the questions he no doubt had for her?_

She sighed. She owed him an explanation.

"Castle, I..." her throat went dry and words refused to come out. She mentally slapped herself into saying something.

_That's why she didn't like talking about these things. She didn't like the woman she became, so insecure, so powerless and so vulnerable. She hated that he had that kind of power over her. _

_Ah, there it was again, the irritation... just what she needed to compose herself._

She turned around, two cups of steamy coffee in her hands and set them on the kitchen counter.

"Castle I'm sorry I didn't come to the hospital."

She looked up to meet his gaze.

_No, bad idea._

She walked around the counter and sat on one of the high stools beside him, studying her palms intently.

"It's just that, with the murder of that woman in the alley, we had a lot of work you see and... I didn't have time..."

Now that the words were coming out, they were coming out fast and randomly.

"...There were so many things to do...and then at night...well, I couldn't...plus I didn't want to...you see, we had to act fast and...well..."

She stopped, realizing that none of what she had said made sense. This was harder than expected. Finally, she looked up.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

_He let her talk, not understanding a thing she was saying but knowing it was a process she had to go through. She hadn't looked at him in the eyes once since the hospital. What was she hiding behind those green eyes that she refused to look at him?_

_When she finished talking, she raised her eyes. At last._

_They say the eyes are the gateway to one's soul... This was certainly true for Kate Beckett at this particular moment._

_He had expected to see many things; sadness, annoyance maybe but certainly not...that._

_Fear. He could see fear in her eyes._

_Fear of what? Since when was Beckett afraid of him? Fear that he'd ask for a better explanation maybe? He certainly wanted to._

_But not now. Right now all he wanted to do was to take away the fear that was in her eyes, to reassure her. He wanted to see that smile he loved so much, see the sparks in her big green eyes. _

He looked at her for a moment, studying her, admiring her. They stayed like that a moment, lost in each other's eyes before Castle spoke: "Thank you." She looked surprised. "For catching the bad guys."

Indeed, the day before, Alexis had told him that Beckett and her team had managed to find his aggressors thanks to the testimony of the man he'd seen get out of his apartment building seconds before and thanks to video surveillance of the nearby streets. They had been arrested, scientific proof had linked them to the murder victim and they had even confessed to a robbery gone wrong. He had only been collateral damage.

"It's my job" came her matter-of-fact answer.

"And you do it quite well."

That earned him a slight smile.

"And coffee too", he added as he sipped some of the warm liquid.

Her smile widened.

"I have many hidden skills."

"So I see. You surprise me more and more every day detective."

* * *

_She silently thanked him for not rejecting her, for not forcing her to explain herself, for changing topics and, quite simply, for making her smile._

_She wanted to tell him the rest of her reasons for not coming. The real reasons._

_But how could she? When the words refused to come out? When she turned into a blabbering idiot at the thought of telling him so much? How could she confess to him something she had only admitted to herself a few hours ago, when she'd decided to visit him in the hospital?_

_One day. _

_One day she'd tell him._


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for all your great comments guys. I really appreciate them, keep 'em coming ^^**

**Ok, so this next chapter is a little shorter than the previous ones but I promise chapter 6 will actually be up very soon as well to make up for it :)**

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**CHAPTER 5**

She flashed her badge to the officer in charge and stepped under the police tape.

She noticed the body of a young woman laying on the ground, Lanie by her side.

She did a quick appraisal of the surrounding crime scene and noticed the rope that hung from the branch of one of Central Park's London Planes.

"Since as far as I know I don't deal with suicides can you tell me what I'm doing here Lanie?" she asked the M.E as she crouched by her side.

"Looks like suicide doesn't it? With that rope and all? Well that's what the first responders thought as well. It's only when they noticed this..." She added while pointing to large purple-ish marks on the victim's neck, "that they decided to call the coroner's office."

"A murder masked as suicide?"

"Most likely. Although I'll have to do a more detailed analysis at the morgue to confirm it. But my best guess is, this hand pattern here is your COD; the ligature marks appeared only post-mortem."

"Interesting. What else?"

"Again, I'll know more once running some tests but I'd estimate TOD between eight pm and midnight last night."

While Lanie was showing her the victim's hands, indicating that she had fought back and there was hope of DNA evidence, she felt a familiar presence behind her back. A presence she had come to accept, to appreciate even. A presence she had almost lost a few days ago...

"Is the crime rate in New-York dropping so much that you are now investigating suicides detective?"

She rolled her eyes and set them on him as he walked around the body to face her.

"Castle, what are you doing here?"

He gestured to their surroundings.

"Crime scene. You. Where else would I be?"

She got up and faced him.

"No, I mean, what are you doing..._here_. You should be at home. In bed."

He bit his lower lip and she thought just then he resembled a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. She castigated herself for thinking it was cute. She saw him give a quick glance behind her and when she followed his gaze, she saw her two partners suspiciously absorbed by a grass pattern at their feet. She glared at them anyway, for good measure ,and turned back to Castle.

"You shouldn't be here." she repeated.

"I've been out of the hospital for a week! I'm bored at home!"

And now he also had the voice of a little kid caught red handed and whining his way out of trouble.

Again, cute.

_So it had already been a week. Had time gone by so fast that she was convinced the accident happened only yesterday? The memories were still so vivid, how could it have been so long ago? She still jumped whenever her cellphone rang. She could still see him, laying down in his bed, injured and so pale. That image was probably engraved in her mind forever now, alongside that of her mother laying peacefully in a casket._

_After he'd come out of the hospital, she had taken him back to his loft and they had drunk coffee and then coffee had turned into lunch. They hadn't talked about the hospital and her disappearing act. But Castle had asked her to fill him in on every single detail of the investigation that had led to the arrest of his aggressors. When lunch had been over it was already mid-afternoon and, seeing the exhaustion on the writer's face, Kate had decided to let him rest. But before leaving, she had made him promise, with no ulterior motive other than to make sure he'd recover well, to take a week off and rest. He had reluctantly agreed to her plea. _

_She wished he'd actually never come back to the precinct. Not that she didn't want to see him anymore – far from it – but since his aggression just the thought of something happening to him made her sick to her stomach..._

"Plus, I missed you." His voice put an end to her thoughts.

Her face slightly cast down so he wouldn't see, she smiled.

But, true to herself, she chose to ignore his last remark and get her attention back to the young woman, whom she estimated to be in her early twenties, that had been strangled and hung to a tree.

"Ryan, Esposito, you guys go talk to the homeless people in the vicinity, let's see if they saw or heard anything useful."

The two detectives spread out as Kate stepped closer to the hanging rope, thoughtful.

"Lanie, how tall do you think our victim is?"

"5'3 give or take."

"And her weight?"

"I'd say around 115 pounds."

Beckett crouched under the branch and examined the ground around her.

Castle came to her side and tried to crouch as well but the pain in his side drew a groan out of him and he gave up on that idea.

"Castle. Go home." she ordered without looking up.

"Tell me detective, do I ever do as you tell me?"

She arched an eyebrow, surprised by his question and answered it with the appropriate exasperated sigh.

"No."

"Precisely. So... did you lose an earring or is there anything interesting on the ground?"

She shook her head and hid the small smile that was creeping on her lips.

_She'd missed him too. But she'd never admit to it._

"How high would you say is the branch?"

Castle stepped under the rope which barely touched his hair.

"Probably around seven feet high."

He looked up at the rope dangling above him and then at Beckett on the floor. Then he realized where she was getting at.

"Oh! You're wondering how she got up there if she was already dead!"

"Well, at least we know there was _too much_ cerebral damage."

Castle looked puzzled for a moment before he realized who she was talking about.

"Haha. Very funny detective! Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor."

She got up, a smirk on her face.

"So you think he used some kind of stool to lift her up?"

"Except there is no evidence to corroborate that. Then again..." she looked around the tree once more, cursing against the lack of rain these past few weeks "There are no traces at all."

* * *

Beckett finished tracing a horizontal line across her board under the victim's picture. She added two vertical dashes at eight pm and midnight and, with a red dry-eraser she drew a second line between those two times and wrote "_time of death_" under it.

As she continued writing what little information they had on the victim, she saw Castle coming out of the break room. He held one cup of steaming coffee firmly in one hand and another more precariously in the other. She smiled at his habit of bringing her coffee.

He started bending forward to place one cup on her desk but when she saw the other cup tip dangerously, she came to his aid. She placed her hand over his and held the cup that threatened to spill its content over her papers.

"You spill one drop of coffee on my file and I'll make sure you have both arms in slings."

"You're welcome"

She looked at the hot cup between her hands and the hot fumes coming out of it.

She hadn't made a single coffee from the espresso machine since... a week and three days.

The thought of drinking good quality coffee again made her drool in anticipation and she added a much kinder "Thank you Castle", accompanied by a smile.

* * *

When Esposito and Ryan got back from their tour of Central Park, the team spent the rest of the morning adding information to the file on their victim. Name, occupation, known whereabouts, friends and family; they needed as much information as possible to get started in their investigation.

And, later in the day, as Castle was narrating one of his impossible theories to her two partners, Beckett observed them in silence and smiled.

_She did that a lot today._


	6. Chapter 6

**As promised, Chapter 6 is here. The next chapters should be up pretty fast as well. Weirdly enough I've already written 8, but need to work on 7 now... Don't ask.**

**Anyhow, thanks for the reviews, as always, I really appreciate them. You'll have noticed that I'm spending a little more time on the case and less on Caslte and Beckett. That will change very soon too, I promise. In fact, fair warning, some time in the next chapters this story's rating will _definitely _change! 'Nuff said.  
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**CHAPTER 6**

Ryan dropped the file on Beckett's desk.

As she opened it to scan its contents, he gave him a brief summary.

"Our second victim, Suzanne Procter, twenty-two, law student at NYU. She was found shot in the head in an hotel room."

Beckett examined the young girl's picture from her driver's license: she had brown eyes and long brown hair, her features were still slightly childish and she had a kind smile; the portrait of innocence. Then she looked at the crime scene photos.

_Sometimes, she hated this city._

"What's the link with our first victim?"

Ryan indicated the girl's address.

"Next door neighbor."

Beckett got up and stepped to the white board, already filling up with information on their first murder victim. She took Suzanne's picture and stuck it next to that of her neighbor, Carol Baytes.

She turned back to Ryan.

"Alright, you and Esposito go to their building again. Talk to the neighbors again, find out if they knew each other. Two murders of young girls in one building, it's not a coincidence."

She read over the notes that the first investigating team had taken, before they realize there was a potential connection between the victims.

"I'm gonna head back to the hotel, try to figure out what a twenty-two year old law student was doing in such a cheap hotel room."

_Truth be told, Beckett had her own idea as to what a young girl like that would be doing in such a hotel. But Beckett didn't do theories, she needed facts.  
After all, this could have been as much a low-budget romantic night out with a boyfriend that turned bad as a young woman needing to sell her body to finance her studies. _

_However she did know someone who loved to theorize... Even if they weren't always useful. _

As Ryan was walking away, she called him.

"And Ryan? Have you already called Castle to warn him?"

He observed features, trying to gauge whether his well-being depended on his answer. He hadn't missed the glare she had sent them the day before when they'd called Castle to the park. But this time, she seemed nice enough.

"Not yet."

She smiled, clearly reading the apprehension on his face.

When Ryan disappeared from the bull pen she took her bag and coat and headed to the elevator, her cellphone to her ear.

"Castle. We have a second victim. If you want in on it you better be in front of your building in twenty."

* * *

"Classy hotel", commented Castle as the cracked door closed behind them with a loud creak.

Beckett just rolled her eyes and headed to her car.

"So? You still think it was a low-budget romantic outing gone wrong?"

This time, she went for a scowl.

What talent Castle had with words, she matched it with her meaningful looks.

They had learned that Suzanne had indeed been accompanied when she had come into the hotel the night before. Although the clerk hadn't been able to provide a detailed description of the man accompanying her, the fact that he had estimated his age between forty and fifty years old had seriously damaged Beckett's theory. But not completely... After all, why not. To each their own.

What had in fact completely crushed her theory was the fact that Suzanne came to the hotel regularly and seldom with the same man.

The fact that the clerk hadn't seen the man come back out the front door let Beckett to believe he had left through the fire escape. Why of course begged the question, why? Certainly not for fear of being seen or recognized or he wouldn't have walked in through the front door in the first place. In the detective's experience there were only two reasons to explain his departure route: either her Don Juan was her murderer, or he had seen something that made him flee.

But of course, the hotel being what it was there were no security cameras to check the ins and outs of patrons.

Beckett looked around the hotel for possible video surveillance of the area.

She called Esposito's cell to check on her colleagues progress at the apartment building. Then she asked them to get a hold of security footage from the stores in the area of the hotel as soon as they got back to the precinct. She had another stop to make before making it back herself.

Castle looked over to her, intrigued as she hung up and got in the car.

"Where to now detective?"

* * *

The waitress arrived with a fresh pot of coffee and poured the drink in the three cups on the table. Beckett smiled as a thank you and turned her attention back to the short, stout man in front of her.

"Mister Spinelli, how long had miss Procter been working for you?"

She took her cup of coffee, badly needing a shot of caffeine. Seating next to her, she saw Castle take a sip and make a disgusted face. She set her cup back down and pushed it away, sadly.

"Suzy? 'bout six months. Hell of a girl that one. One of my best girls. Customers _loved_ her."

Beckett gave a quick look over to where the waitress was pouring other cups of coffee. She looked barely over twenty and wore a beige tank top with the diner's logo in the front as well as matching mini-shorts. She had no doubt that patrons loved the service in this diner. In fact, she discreetly added a note on her notepad "_other services_?"

She continued asking routine questions, with the occasional one coming from Castle.

The writer was irritating more often than not and his theories were almost always completely nuts, but sometimes, she had to admit, he asked good questions.

"Did you notice anything different about Suzanne's behavior these past few weeks?"

"I'm not the kind of guy to get my nose in my girls' business ya' know. No ma'ma, not that kind of man."

Kate heard the barely concealed snort coming from Castle. She didn't need to look to guess he had the same disgusted look on his face as for the coffee. A look she would have matched if she didn't have to maintain a certain decorum.

The interview had been pretty useless so far, her employer being unable to provide any new or interesting facts about Suzanne. The only thing that had come out of the past half hour was that the man sitting across the table was a despicable man with a rather disturbing taste for young girls in mini-shorts.

Kate was giving her neighbor a quick look to indicate the interview was coming to an end, when Mr Spinelli added: "Ya know, now that I think 'bout it, since her friend Amy died last week, she'd been completely out of it. Had to straighten her up a few times too."

That got her attention.

"Amy?"

_She knew that name. _

_Kate Beckett made it a point of remembering every single that had been written on her white board, even after closing a case. As a sign of respect and to always remember. But with so many names memorized, she had a hard time finding the one that connected to Amy._

"Amy Wilder?"

Castle's voice surprised her and she turned to him. It's only when she saw his livid face that she recognized the name.

"Oh ya' know, 's not like I knew her last name. Tall, skinny brunette, real pretty too... Offered her a job here a few times. Anyhow... yeah so, they found her dead in some alley 'bout... what? A week ago?"

"Eleven days" corrected Castle.

_She couldn't take her eyes off Castle who was quickly becoming paler than a ghost. Beside her, she saw a man haunted by the memories, by the pain... He had made so many jokes about that night, treating like nothing bad had happened that she had come to believe the only pain he still felt was physical. She had come to believe he hadn't been affected; that at best, all this misadventure had done was give him some inspiration for a great chapter in his book. She'd come to believe she was the only one who suffered from it all. _

_But, as she observed the man she was so used to seeing with a wide smile on his face breaking down before her, she understood – albeit far too late – that the worst pain that still affected him was in fact in his head. _

_It was always so much easier to write about crime or even to witness it than to be its victim. She'd tried to make Castle understand this so many times before. And now, she knew he finally understood._

_But today, she wished he never did.  
_

_

* * *

_

"So? How did they know each other?" asked Ryan as Esposito came back from the archives and dropped the file on Amy Wilder's murder on Beckett's desk where the team was gathered.

"According to our friend Mr Spinelli, they were friends. Amy and Carol would often come by her work at night to grad a bite to eat before heading out."

Beckett reopened the third file and took out Amy's photo to stick it next to her two friends'.

She examined the three women. Two long-haired brunettes and a blonde. Each with a different eye color. Each of different heights. Different lives as well according to the info they had gathered. The only thing they seemed to have in common was their youth and their beauty... and no doubt their night-time employment.

"I want someone to go back to the hotel, show photos of Amy and Carol around. If they were working the streets as well, they might have been going to the same hotel."

As Beckett and her two partners worked the case, Castle observed them from his usual chair. Or more accurately, he observed Beckett.

_The car trip back from the diner had been a quiet one. Each one dealing silently with the implications of the discovery of a link between the woman in the alley and their two current murders. _

_Castle had actually been rather disappointed when he had learned that the two men had confessed to a robbery gone horribly wrong. Of course he'd been glad to learn that the men had been apprehended and had been quite impressed by the effective work that Beckett had done – it was, after all, her excuse for not visiting him in the hospital, so she'd better had found them. But the writer in him had been slightly disappointed that the story leading to his stabbing was a common robbery. _

_So was he actually happy about this new turn of events?_

_Well, the writer in him was on cloud nine. The man... in hell. Not so much because of the difficulty of the case or because of his own relation to it, nor because of the wounds it reopened. He hurt, yes, but for her._

Beckett gave an order to Ryan and Esposito and they left.

She leaned against the side of her desk, folding her arms over her chest and staring at the white board.

_And then he saw it again. That same look he had seen in the car._

_To an onlooker she seemed focused on the road ahead of her, but to him, who had come to know her so well, it was obvious her mind was somewhere else. And not on the case, either. No, when she had her mind on a case, she frowned a little and bit her lower lip. A habit of hers. The look that she had in the car, was one he had rarely seen, the look of a woman lost, confused and disappointed._

_And as she stood in front of her white board, he saw that look again. _

_He had often seen her, standing there, going over all the details of an ongoing investigation, trying to connect the dots, her eyes perusing through the information spread out across the board. But this time, her eyes remained completely still, fixed on a single spot._

_And he knew what was on her mind._

He got up and settled beside her on the table's rim. She didn't move. A few minutes went by before he spoke.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." came her reply.

A few more minutes went by.

"I should have seen it."

_Yes, he knew exactly what was on her mind._

"Kate?"

When she didn't move, he stepped away from the table and in front of her.

"You couldn't have known"

He examined her, looking for a reaction, but there was none.

"You lead your investigation, you found the suspects, they confessed to their crime and you arrested them. It's what you do."

She slowly raised her eyes and he caught them with his, while taking a step toward her.

"There was no way you could have known they gave you a false motive. And no way you'd know it would lead to two more murders. None. There was nothing in the investigation of the first murder that should have lead you to believe this wasn't just a robbery gone wrong. Even _I_ was convinced that's what it was!"

His last remark caused a slight movement of her lips that didn't go unnoticed.

"What matters is that now, you know. You know and you are going to find the sons of bitches who are responsible for those three women's deaths. You will find them and you will arrest them. Because Kate, you truly are NYPD's best."

Although he had managed to make her smile ever so lightly, he could still read so much distress in her eyes, so he added, with his cheekiest smile: "and because you've got one hell of a partner!"

_There. A smile._

_And a punch in his left shoulder. Pain._

_But it was totally worth it._


	7. Chapter 7

**Glad you're all still sticking around for this story :)**

**So, I might not be able to post the next chapter before a few days BUT seeing as this is the longest chapter yet, I hope you will forgive me and it will keep you busy until the next one! **

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**CHAPTER 7**

Castle observed the man through the glass window. He had seen mug shots of his aggressors, but had never seen them face to face. Nor did he care to.

Right now, the shorter of the two was sitting at the desk, his shackled hands on the table, looking positively bored.

Beckett had – surprisingly – asked him if he wanted to join her for the interrogation, probably because she knew what his answer would be all along. And sure enough, he had declined.

He watched her come in, oozing confidence, as Esposito and Ryan joined him in the observation room.

"Man, I would not want to be that guy in there today." commented Esposito as he stepped to Castle's left side.

"Yeah, Beckett's gonna fry him." added Ryan on his right.

"Beckett's tough, for sure." added Castle, slightly confused.

"Definitely. But right now, she is pissed, man! And when Beckett's pissed. Sparks fly."

"She doesn't like that they lied to her I guess, huh?" asked Castle.

"Well... There's that." came Ryan's cryptic reply.

_Beckett did seem in a rather unpleasant mood._

They had picked up their Don Juan late the night before and in the morning, thanks to Beckett's strong 'encouragements' he had narrated the events that took place the night of Suzanne's death and agreed to sit with a sketch artist. Since the end of that interview, Beckett had been on fire. Actually, she had been on fire since the link between all three cases became apparent.

It was clear to anyone watching in the precinct that the detective would not fail again.

Kate had immediately asked to talk to her two murderers to get another description out of them, building her case against some mystery man responsible for the death of three women and Castle's own near death experience.

_Oh yes, Beckett was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of it all._

"So,you two aren't gonna talk to the other guy?"

"Don't need to. That one there, he's the talker, the weak link. And with Beckett asking the questions in the mood she's in, this will be a piece of cake. Just watch."

_And watch he did._

_The way the table was set, he could only see half of Beckett's face but that was enough to see the tight muscles of her face, her clenching jaw, her green hard eyes set on the man facing her. He could see it all, her focus, her determination and her strength. So much strength.  
He had always admired the way she owned the room whenever she conducted an interview. No matter who was in front of her, big or small, strong or weak, she was always the one in control; she had all the power and she wielded it skillfully.  
Beckett undeniably had a gift for reading people and connecting with them. It made her kind to the victim's friends and fierce to the victim's foes. She always knew how to get what she wanted out of people... and not just at work._

_That thought made him smile. Definitely not just at work._

A uniform came into the room and handed Ryan a sheet. He examined it, Esposito looking over to him in anticipation while Castle was still very much focused on Beckett. If anyone were to ask him later on what had been said during the interview, he would have been incapable of answering.

"Lab results".

Ryan's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Anything good?" asked Esposito as he stepped to his partner's side to read it, "Oh. Beckett's gonna love this."

* * *

Castle, left alone in the observation room, saw the man's color drain from his face when Beckett presented him with the Rap sheet of one Tony Zivetti.

He saw him nod in response to Beckett's question and she rose up.

As he came out of his room, he saw her moving toward the white board where the portrait the sketch artist had drawn a few hours before was hanging.

She turned to the three men gathered around her holding both papers in her hands.

"So, we know Tony here ordered Amy's death, we know he fought with Carol enough that she'd scrape his skin off while defending herself and that he was in Suzanne's room the night she died." She paused before addressing her detective: "Ryan?"

"Warrant's on its way."

She gave him a satisfied smile and stepped to her desk.

"Alright boys, what do you say we pay a visit to Mr Zivetti?" she asked picking up her badge and gun from her drawer.

* * *

She parked her car on 7th Avenue, near the 110th. A few other police cars parked behind her.

She cut the engine off and turned to Castle who was already unbuckling his seat belt.

"Listen to me Castle, I agreed to your coming along as a favor to you. But now, I need _you_ to do me a favor."

She looked at him straight in the eyes, trying to convey through them the weight of her words.

"You stay in the car. I am serious Castle. You are still wounded and this guy is dangerous. I do not want to see you come out of this car, no matter what happens, you hear me?"

He didn't answer but gave her a disappointed pout.

"Castle? I need you to promise me you will not get out this car!"

_Yes, she needed him to promise. This time more than ever she needed to know he would be safe. That no harm would come to him. She could not bear the idea that he'd be hurt again._

In her rear-view mirror she saw that her two colleagues were already out of their car and geared up. There was no time to waste.

"Castle!"

"I promise. I'll stay in the car."

She gave him one last meaningful look, silently begging him to keep his word.

She got out of her car and put on her vest before stepping to the group of armed men waiting for her orders.

A few minutes later, Kate Beckett was knocking on the door of a man suspected of killing two women and ordering the death of a third one.

_Four days. It had been four days since one murder case became three. It had taken them that long to find their mystery hotel guest. _

_Four days during which Beckett and her team discovered that the link between their three victims was, in fact, their night time employment. All three women worked for the same man, Zivetti as it turned out. They had learned from another girl that Amy had witnessed the beating and subsequent death of one of the other prostitutes working for Zivetti and as a result had decided to quit the business and possibly rat him out. _

_The rest of the story was still a theory in Beckett's mind but it wasn't hard to imagine that Amy died for wanting to quit. That Carol confronted her pimp about her friend's death and shared her fate. And Suzanne, the last of the trio of friends... was a possible threat that needed to be silenced. _

_Whatever the reasons though, through interrogations, forensic evidence and research they had gathered enough evidence to build a case against Zivetti and arrest him for murder.  
_

"NYPD! Open the door!"

No answer. Muffled noises. A creak.

She signaled her team, stepped in front of the door, gun in hand and, after giving them three nods kicked the door open.

Beckett came in first, Esposito and Ryan on her heels. As they entered the living area, she saw the open window and after gesturing to her partners she stepped to it. She put her back to the near wall, protecting herself from a possible sneak attack and then chanced a glance outside; in time to see the man jump off the ladder into the street.

She immediately climbed out of the window in pursuit, leaving it to her partners to warn the rest of the team their suspect was escaping through the street.

She landed squarely on the pavement, and saw the man cross the 110th into Central Park.

As she started into a run she heard the sounds of her partners climbing down the stairs and felt reassured by the assurance that she had back up right behind her.

She entered Central Park and saw her man disappear between the trees.

The sun was setting over New York city, only partially lighting up Central Park. Thankfully for Beckett this meant there would be less people wandering around the park. But less didn't mean none and the detective did not like the idea of having to chase after a possibly armed man in a public area.

She slowed down to a jog, examining her surroundings, listening for any indication of her suspect's whereabouts. Behind her, Ryan and Esposito caught up and she ordered them to spread out to each sides of the series of trees facing them.

Slightly to her left, she heard the muffled cry of a woman. She headed toward the sound and found a woman, kneeling by a tree, visibly shaken. She quickly surveyed the area for a sign of Zivetti. She put a reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder to get her attention.

"NYPD. What did you see?" she asked in a whisper.

"A man...he... he had a gun and he..."

"Where did he go?" Sadly, she had no time to comfort the woman. She just needed facts.

The woman pointed straight ahead. Kate attempted a reassuring smile before ordering her out of the park.

_So he was armed. Great. _

She heard a branch snap a few trees ahead of her... the benefit and drawback of hiding in a park.

Her weapon at a ready, she carefully took a few steps toward the noise.

Another snap.

She screwed up her eyes, trying to distinguish among the various shadows of the night that of an armed man running away.

Another series of snaps, louder, to her left.

She immediately turned, her whole body alert, her face tensed, her gun pointing to the origin of the noise.

A man came out of behind a tree.

"NYPD. Let me see your hands!"

She focused on the man's silhouette, her finger on the trigger, ready to fire in case of a threat.

But his hands shot to the sky in surrender.

"Kate look out!" came a voice behind her.

But she had already seen the other shadow, to her right, coming out of behind a tree and she was already bringing her gun to him; except, she realized, _he_ wasn't aiming at her.

* * *

A shot rang in the quiet of the night.

Then footsteps approaching, fast.

He kept his eyes closed, reasoning that if he kept them closed, then none of this would be real.

_He had seen the man climb down the fire escape and land on the street.  
He had seen Kate follow suit moments after.  
He had promised her he wouldn't move. He had often made that same promise in the past. But seeing Kate potentially in danger always had the same effect on him. He knew very well she was a cop and a big girl and she could handle herself. She was trained for that job and he wasn't. But there are some things you just can't help, some instincts you can't go against and so he had climbed out of the car and followed them at a distance.  
He had seen Kate stop to reassure a woman by a tree.  
He had heard the branches snap.  
He had seen a shadow move in front of them.  
Then he had seen another, more to the right.  
He had seen the gun pointing at Kate and he had warned her.  
Then he had seen the gun point toward him._

He tried to focus on the sensations in his limbs, searching where he had been hit. But, except for the constant dull pain in his right shoulder, he couldn't feel anything else.

He dared opening an eye and saw Zivetti, laying on the floor, Ryan and Esposito by his side, disarming and cuffing him.

Instantly, he turned to Beckett to make sure she wasn't hurt.

She stood there, a few feet away, motionless, staring at the man laying on the ground, her gun still in hand, lowered. He could see her body was still tense.

He kept observing her a moment before she finally relaxed and holstered her gun.

That's when she turned to him and their eyes briefly met. He gave her a smile and was rewarded by an icy stare before she looked away and radioed in their position.

He decided to step to the man and check what injury she had inflicted on him. She bullet had hit his right shoulder.

"_Ironic_," he thought as he felt a pang in his own shoulder.

He heard her footsteps behind him and turned around, giving her another tentative smile.

"Nice shot, detective."

But as an answer, she grabbed his left arm and pulled him aside.

He gasped when she shoved him against a tree trunk a few feet away.

"I have had it! I have had enough of your crap Castle! This is the last time you will _ever_ interfere with one of my cases..."

_As her shouts echoed in the night, scaring the living daylight out of him, he couldn't bring himself to look away. He was captivated, mesmerized by her look._

_This wasn't the first time she'd yelled at him, far from it, but in the past she only seemed annoyed, sometimes even, he could tell she was yelling just to preserve her image more than from actual anger. But this time... This time she was angry. Really angry. There was a rage in her voice, in her eyes, all over her face. _

_Something he had never seen before. Something he had never wanted to see. _

_This was not another one of her meaningless rants. This time, he actually believed every word that came out of her mouth.  
_

"You and I... we're done." she finished before turning her back on him and joining the officers that had reached the scene.

He was stunned.

He glanced over at Ryan and Esposito who looked equally shocked.

"What's wrong with Beckett?"

_He didn't mean it as a joke, or a reproach. He was genuinely wondering what had brought on such a rage. He knew he shouldn't have gotten out of the car and he had expected the lecture. But he hadn't expected such a violent reaction._

"Dude …" was Esposito's only reply accompanied by a quick glance at Castle's injured shoulder. A movement not missed by Castle.

* * *

As soon as she started driving, she felt the tears coming up to her eyes. She had to hold them back though, at least while driving. But she'd been holding them back for so long...

_She wished she could have left right after yelling at him; go home, lay on her bed, her face buried in her pillow, letting all the tears in her body fall out... But she had to stay. She had to respect the procedure. She had fired her weapon and shot a man. She had to answer some questions. _

_But, as she gave a statement to an officer, retraced her steps, talked to another officer, waited for a verdict, all the fatigue, fear and anger that she had felt over the last hour started rising up to the surface, demanding her attention, demanding to be released through her tears. _

_Then, she had left the park, her weapon and badge still attached to her hips._

As she was driving back down Manhattan, her eyes set on the road, what she saw was not the roads of New-York but the image of Castle, laying on the ground, surrounded by a pool of his own blood. She had had that image stuck in her head since she'd heard the gun shot.  
The feeling that had come over her when she had seen the gun point toward him... she'd never felt anything like it before.

_She had fired without thinking. A reflex of sorts. She hadn't even felt her finger squeeze the trigger. She had heard the gun shot, but she didn't know who had fired. She had stayed there, frozen, unable to move, to breath even; and the image of Castle falling backwards first appeared before her eyes._

_It had seemed like an eternity before she'd realized the man falling in front of her was in fact her suspect. _

_And then, as the reality of the moment hit her, her fear turned into anger. Anger at him for coming out of the car, for putting himself in danger, for being so careless, for not understanding how much she cared about him... But mostly, anger at herself, for allowing him to come along in the car. _

_And as she yelled at him, letting all of her anger spill on him, making sure he would never, ever be put in harm's way again because of her, the image continued to haunt her._

_Was he bleeding because of the gun shot or because of his stabbing? _

_It didn't matter, the meaning was the same. She could not stand the idea of him being injured. She could not stand the idea that somehow she was responsible. And quite simply, she could not stand the thought of losing him.  
_

As she drove far from him, from her work, from the world, all the emotions that she had suppressed for the last two weeks came back with a vengeance and tears started spilling down her cheeks.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the wait. But here is Chapter 8. So... you might have noticed the rating changed for this story. Be warned, there is some loving in this story. Nothing graphic though, not my cup of tea.**

**Enjoy (hopefully)!  
**

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* * *

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**CHAPTER 8**

He got out of the elevator and headed down the corridor to the door he was looking for. He knocked.

_It had taken him a while to get to this door._

_He had watched her, from afar, as she walked around the park and talked to various officers.  
Some people drown their sorrows in alcohol, others, like Kate Beckett drown them with work. And that night he had seen her work hard, constantly moving, talking, doing something, most likely trying to forget her pain.  
He didn't dare talk to her. Not after her outburst. But he didn't want to leave her either.  
He had seen her leave the park and he'd thought it was the end. He had gone too far and he ought to respect her wishes. He wouldn't go back to the precinct. _

_So he had taken a cab back to his apartment.  
But as he watched the buildings of New-York out the window, he thought back on all the great moments he had spent with Kate. He had scoffed at the cliché of a trip down memory lane in a yellow cab. But he had kept on remembering.  
Then he had given a new address to the driver._

_When he'd arrived in front of her building, he had started walking away.  
She'd refuse to see him anyway. And he risked pushing her away even more by showing up uninvited at her door so late in the night and after what had happened.  
Yet he had turned around and gotten into the elevator._

_No. He wasn't going to give up on her. He wasn't going to let her push him away. He would fight. And if it meant being verbally – or physically – assaulted, so be it. She was worth it._

But as he got no answer to his knock, he considered giving up, for the night at least and started turning around.

The door opened.

And there she was, standing at her doorstep, looking so vulnerable and sweet; her wet hair dripping down her shoulders, she wore a mini-short that he could barely make out under an oversized Grey t-shirt, and long white socks; she looked almost childish... except for the beer she was holding in one hand.

_All the words that he had so careful prepared in the taxi, the street, the elevator, escaped him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. And, as she was clearly surprised by his visit and unable to speak either, they just stood there a moment, on her doorstep, observing each other in silence._

_That was their relationship in a nutshell.  
Her, standing inside her apartment, her fortress of sorts and even if the door was opened, she held the door strongly in her hand, ready to close it at any moment.  
Him, standing just outside her fortress, wanting so badly to enter and discover the mysteries hidden inside; he had managed to make her open the door, but she had the power to close it whenever she chose.  
Was she going to let him in? Was he going to force himself inside?  
Would she take a step back? Or would he take one forward?_

In the end, she was the one to break the silence.

"Castle, what are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear in the park."

_He winced at her tone. That was not the greeting he had been hoping for. Then again, what did he expect? A hug?  
Her words stirred something inside him and he unwillingly used the same tone in his reply._

"Oh you were..."

_Her earlier words rang in his head "you and I...we're done."_

"... perfectly clear."

"Then what are you doing here?"

_So, he'd have to take the first step then._

Which he did, literally.

He was slightly reassured when she didn't move to block his path and he stepped into the apartment.

"Castle, I don't..."

But he didn't let her finish and turned around as she closed the door.

"Listen to me. I know that you don't want to see me anymore, I get it. But before I... disappear, I just wanted to apologize for my behavior, okay?"

She walked passed him and into her living-room to put her beer on the kitchen counter behind him.

"I'm sorry" he continued "once again, I didn't listen to you, I was a fool, I put you in danger..."

"Castle..."

"... I overstepped, I know, but..."

"Castle, I really don't want to..."

He didn't noticed that she had stepped closer to him, too busy that he was, studying the tiles on the floor.

"...I didn't want to cause any trouble. I just,...reacted. And I know my apology won't change what happened but I just wanted you to know..."

As he raised his head to look at her, her index came to rest on his lips.

"I don't want to hear your excuses Castle."

"But I..." he tried to answer back, but he was too distracted by the feel of her finger on his moving lips.

Thus her "shut up" was quite useless as he had lost his will to speak.

As he was about to step away, to prevent himself from reacting and letting his tongue slip between his lips, her own took her finger's place.

At first, the shock of her action froze him on the spot. Then he felt her long fingers run through his hair, pulling him down and he responded to her kiss, wrapping an arm around her back and silently cursing against his still invalid one.

Soon, he felt her tongue against his lips, demanding access, which he gave her and their tongues battled in a passionate kiss.

He was quickly overwhelmed by the sensations that coursed through his body. The feel of Kate's body against his, the taste of her lips, her hands that touched, pulled and caressed...

Their kiss broke when the need for air became too strong.

So close to her that he felt her ragged breathing on his neck, he could see that her green eyes had turned black with lust.

He wished they could have stayed like that a moment, studying her, memorizing every detail of her, but she didn't give him the time as she captured his lips again in a hungry kiss.

He felt her hands slide down his chest to reach the rim of his shirt.  
The feel of her hand on his flesh sent shivers through his body and he let out a faint moan.  
Her hand caressed its way up against his bare chest, lifting the shirt along the way.  
Her other hand came to grasp the garment and she broke away from his lips only to try and get the t-shirt out of the way.  
But his arm, his cursed arm, proved to be a problem for that task.  
He was about to help her wiggle his way out of it, but she clearly was in a hurry as she took the rim of his t-shirt in both hands and tore it apart shamelessly.

_He kinda liked that shirt._

She pressed her lips against his again with envy, as her hands pushed the torn fabric off his shoulder.

New sensations assailed him as their tongues battled and her hands touched, brushed, caressed his newly exposed skin.

With his left hand, he lifted the long t-shirt enough to slide his hand under it. He placed his hand on the small of her back and felt her body arch into his.  
As her mouth started tracing a path along his jawline to his ear, her hands found the button of his jeans, the same jeans she had helped him button up two weeks before.  
He felt her body press against his again, forcing him to take a step back. And then another.

He let her guide them into the bedroom.

When they stepped into the room, he decided he couldn't hold off any longer and needed to see her, to touch her, to taste her... He lowered his head to her neck and let his lips and tongue explore the tender flesh there. He heard her surprised yelp, followed by a moan that only encouraged him further in his assault of the her sweet, delicious neck.

He was so absorbed by his tasting of what he had decided would be his new favorite place – buried in Kate's neck – that he didn't feel her fingers unbuttoning him and his jeans falling off. It's only when the jeans formed a pool at his feet, leaving him in his boxers, that he felt them and he took a few steps back to get out of them.  
As his mouth wasn't busy on her neck anymore, she decided she needed to feel it against hers.

He had just started lifting her shirt up when she broke away from him.  
He immediately missed her.  
He was about to protest when she rested a palm on his chest and then pushed him back into the bed.

He groaned in response to the pain that shot through his injured shoulder when it came in contact with the bed. But the pain was quickly forgotten when he saw Kate, above him, straddling him at the hips.

He put a hand on his hips, she put hers on his abdomen.

She smiled.

_The first time he saw her smile that night._

She slid both her hands up his chest, lowering down to him in the process. But instead of kissing him as he'd expected, her head drifted to the side and she captured his earlobe between her teeth.  
He shivered and the hand he had moved on her back pressed her against him in need.

Her mouth sucked and licked and kissed and bit arousing him to no end. He needed to see her, all of her and to feel her skin against his.  
His hand latched onto the rim of her shirt and lifted it swiftly up her body.

He almost regretted his action when her mouth had to leave his flesh.  
Almost.  
Because the sight of Kate, bare chest, sitting above him brought his arousal to a whole new level.

She leaned forward above him again. A few strands of damp hair tickled his face.  
With his left hand, he took the few locks of hair and tucked them neatly behind her ear; he let his finger continue its path down her jawline and to her lips.

He observed her a moment. Her eyes were still darkened with undeniable lust but this time he could also see something else, a slight glow, almost invisible. But enough to make him believe that maybe, just maybe, there was more to this night than sexual desire.

He traced the outlines of her lips. She parted them slightly.  
His hand caressed her cheek tenderly, he took a handful of her long hair and pulled her down to him, gently.

Their lips brushed against each other at first. Then he felt her tongue on his lower lip. He tried to capture it in his mouth but she drew back. After a moment that seemed like an eternity, she kissed him again; and when he felt her tongue against his lips again, he simply parted them, letting her in.

_She lead this dance._

_And she lead it all through the night._


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

The sun had already been running its daily course for a while when it hit his still sleepy face. He groaned in protest and turned around, gripping his pillow on the way and putting it over his face.

That's when he realized the pillow was different than his usual ones. Smaller for one, and the fabric felt different. In fact, now that he was half-awake it seemed not just the pillow was foreign, but the bed as well, the sheets and that smell...

It wasn't his bedroom.

A large smile spread across his face as the memories of the previous night resurfaced in his mind. He stretched an arm to wrap it around the woman lying next to him.

His smile disappeared.

There was no woman.

He opened an eye to see what his hand had felt: emptiness.

_Of course._

He saw the time on her alarm clock; almost nine.

_Obviously, she had simply gone to work. At least that's what he'd keep telling himself until he could talk to her._

He got up to look for his boxers and found them, with the rest of his clothes – including his useless torn shirt – neatly folded on a corner chair.

After putting on his pants, he walked around the apartment, checking if she was indeed gone. When he reached the kitchen, he saw a cup of cold coffee on the counter. He wondered if, earlier in the morning, she had made coffee for two intent on waking him up and then had reconsidered. He heated the coffee and brought it to his lips in eagerness. He took a sip of the drink and placed it back on the counter with a face. All things considered, he'd get his caffeine shot at the precinct.

_The precinct.  
Was he allowed to go back? Did their night together mean she had forgiven him?  
And what did that night mean anyway?  
He had come over to her place to talk to her, to clear a few things between than... Except they hadn't talk much...At all in fact. And this morning, he was more confused than ever before.  
He knew Kate too well to hope that their night of lovemaking meant that they now had a romantic relationship and that she'd greet him with a loving kiss if he walked into the precinct.  
The fact that she had fled the scene of the 'crime' in the morning did not help him feel confident about the meaning of this whole night; however pleasant it had been. _

_There was only one way to find out where they stood. Talking to her._

He decided to go to the precinct. And if it meant signing his death warrant, then so be it... so long as he had time to talk to her before facing the firing squad.

His decision made, he realized there was only one slight problem... he didn't have a shirt to wear.

* * *

Beckett came out of the captain's office with a smile on her lips.

Zivetti was still in the hospital, firmly hand-cuffed to his bed and the file she had built against him was strong enough to allow the DA's office to send him to jail for a very, very long time.

Her smile, however, disappeared and was replaced by apprehension when she saw him standing by her desk, two coffees in hand.

"I really don't know how you can drink the stuff you have at your place," he greeted, handing her a cup.

She examined it a moment, tempted by the delicious fumes that came out of it. But accepting the coffee meant accepting his presence in the office and she wasn't ready for that.

"It's just coffee Kate."

She looked at him in surprise; not so much because he had clearly read her mind but because he had called her Kate. She'd rarely heard him call her by her first name. If ever.

_Were they on a first name basis now?_

In the end, her coffee addiction won over and she took the cup from him.

"I thought I told you not to come back here Castle."

_Obviously, she wasn't ready to take that step._

"I know you did. But... I needed to talk to you and 'here' is where I knew I'd find you."

_Talk. Of course he'd want to talk. She'd only managed to postpone that moment for a few hours._

"Now is not the time Castle."

"It's kind of urgent."

"It will have to wait."

She took a step toward her chair and he took one to block her path, very much aware that she wouldn't hesitate to break his other arm if she really wanted to get past him.

"Kate..." he began softly.

_She decided she kinda liked hearing him say her name._

"...Please."

She sighed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to avoid the conversation for very long anyway. She had a report to type, a case to close, all very good excuses to reject his plea... And yet she walked into the nearby conference room, Castle behind her.

When she heard the door close behind him, she turned around and began: "Listen Castle, about last night..."

"I'm sorry" he interrupted.

_She did absolutely nothing to hide her surprise._

"What?"

"About last night. I came here to say I was sorry."

_Sorry? He was sorry? Why on earth was he sorry?  
Did he have regrets? _

"I shouldn't have come to your apartment last night."

_This was not happening..._

"I knew you weren't feeling well what with everything that happened in the evening and that you were... vulnerable."

She stopped listening.

She turned around to the window, trying to hide the pain that was so clearly written on her face.

_When she had woken up, at five in the morning, she had immediately felt his body behind hers, his hot breathe tickling her neck. She had turned around, careful not to wake him. And she had observed him: his head rested on part of her pillow, his hair was ruffled from sleep, the sheet was pushed back to his hips, largely exposing his naked torso. She had smiled appreciatively.  
When, he'd turned in his sleep and she'd decided to get out of bed it was almost six.  
She had grabbed the t-shirt that had ended up on the floor and had gone to the kitchen to make two coffees. But, as the coffee drops filtered through the machine, her smile had slowly disappeared, and had been replaced by doubts, questions and remorse.  
Not that she regretted their night together, far from it. But she regretted the circumstances and the most likely consequences on their relationship...  
So, as logic took over passion, she had drank her coffee and let the other behind, to cool down.  
She had gone back into the bedroom where she had gathered his clothes on a chair. She had taken her own clothes for the day and stuffed them in her sports bag before putting on sweaters for the gym.  
She had looked at him one more time, peacefully asleep, blissfully unaware of the world that was waking up around him. He looked so cute.  
She would do anything to keep him safe and that meant keeping him away from her work. But maybe she didn't have to keep him away from her altogether.  
She'd grabbed her sports bag and headed out, a smile back on her face._

_But, she realized as he spoke, maybe he didn't want her in his life. Not in that way anyway._

"I shouldn't have taken advantage of you."

_What?_

She swirled around, visibly surprised.

"I want you to know... I wanted to stop you, I thought about it several times, but...well...I mean, you're... I..."

She saw him blush and felt a smile creep at the corner of her lips in response.

_She had imagined he had a million things to ask her and had imagined an equal number of replies. But that one, she didn't expect.  
Her normal reaction would have been some kind of off-hand remark, sarcasm or even a verbal attack but this time, it seemed her usual defence mechanism had abandoned her.  
What could she possibly say to the man who was apologizing for taking advantage of her when she had reproached herself with the same behaviour a few hours earlier in between punches. _

* * *

He didn't miss the slight smile that had appeared on her lips, and as he observed her, looking in her eyes, on her face, some kind of reaction, he saw a whole array of emotions appear across her face. In the end, the one that remained was sadness. She took a deep breath and started studying the lines on her hands intently.

"I can't... I don't know...what to do."

He immediately heard the tears she was fighting back in her voice. He took a step forward, extending an arm toward her.

"Kate, it's okay..."

She took a step back.

"No! No it's not okay. _I'm_ not okay! And I need to be okay to do my job, do you understand that? And... when you're around Castle I... I'm not okay."

He took a step back, as if pushed by the force of her words.

She turned her back on him again, looking out through the window into the immensity of New-York city.

_What could he do, what could he say to breach through her defences at last, to have her open up, talk to him. Nothing he did seemed to work._

_He had been trying for almost two years to get through to her, to discover the woman hiding behind her badge. Two years that he had tried to dig through the walls that Kate Beckett had built around herself after her mother's murder. And he had managed, at times, to get a glimpse of that extraordinary woman... before being violently pushed back. Nothing seemed to work._

_He had extended his hand numerous times, but she'd always turned him down._

He stared at her back for a moment, hoping to see a sign, an indication that his efforts weren't vain.

She didn't move.

He turned around and headed out. Ready to leave this room, this precinct, this woman.

"I can't do my work properly if I worry about you," her voice was just a whisper, but enough to stop him "and I worry _all the time_."

He turned around and waited for the words to come out.

"I need you to leave Rick, not because I don't want you, but because I want you too much."

She turned around, their eyes met briefly before she set hers on the conference table nearby. He waited.

"That day..." there was a quiver in her voice "when I saw my phone... Something broke inside. And when I saw you lying there..."

He saw her close her eyes, biting her lip, clearly trying to fight back some tears. He stepped closer to her, slowly, and dared taking her hand.

She didn't stop him or pull back and she cast her eyes on their entwined hands.

"...My heart shattered into a million little pieces and... I couldn't put it together anymore."

She caressed the back of his hand with her thumb.

"As I sat there, holding your hand, watching you... I realized I could have lost you. And..."

He felt her hand squeeze his tighter.

"I realized I couldn't bare it. And it scared me." Her voice was trembling, her hands were trembling. "It scared me so much."

Then there was silence.

He realized she wasn't going to say any more.

He tried to take a step closer, wanting so desperately to hold her, to protect her, to make the pain go away, but as he moved forward she extended her arm and pressed her hand on his chest. She looked up at him.  
In her glistening eyes he saw no anger or rejection, just an unspoken request to leave it at that.

And before he could do or say anything, she had vanished out the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

She set her empty box on the coffee table and replaced it in her hand by her glass of wine. As she took a sip, she glanced up at Castle who was finishing his own box of noodles.

_After her embarrassing breakdown in the conference room, she'd gone back to work, mentally praying that Castle wouldn't pursue the matter further. He didn't. He had simply left the precinct, leaving behind a bag in which she had found one of her larger sweaters. That night, she had put that sweater on and had fallen asleep in the comfort of his scent surrounding her._

_He hadn't come back to the station._

_So, when his scent had started to fade away, she had called him.  
There was no murder, no investigation and no emergency, except a personal one; a desire, a need to see him, to fill the emptiness in her life. _

_The next day she had gone with him to the hospital and they had taken the sling off for good. To celebrate, he had invited her to what he had advertised as "the best restaurant in town". An hour later they were eating Chinese out of card-boxes in his living-room.  
He hadn't brought up their night together nor their conference room conversation. No. They had spent their diner talking about everything and anything, mostly work, his next book, his joy of having two valid arms again..._

"You look awfully serious Beckett."

_Also, he hadn't used her first name since that day._

She set her glass on the coffee table and turned to him, folding a leg under the other.

"Castle, we never talked about that night we spent together..."

He sat in a similar way as she did, facing her as well.

"Did you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"Didn't you?"

_It was time for her to take that step forward. And the next one. And the one after that. She had the power to decide of their future and she knew it. She had seen Castle's cards. It was time to show him hers._

"I'm sorry. For so many things I can't even begin to list them." she started, her eyes focused on her hands "You may have noticed I'm not really good at the talking thing..."

She lifted her eyes to him.

"I care about you Richard. Probably more than I care to admit..."

He smiled at her confession and the use of his first name and she responded in kind.

"I don't want you at my work because I need to know that you're safe. But... when you're not around, I... well I... you know."

She took one of his hands and studied it carefully, avoiding eye contact.

"Kate? When I'm not around, what?"

In the end, she decided to look at him, at least to give him the stink eye.

"You know what."

"Maybe so. But I wouldn't mind hearing it."

When she saw the cocky grin on his face she wondered if her threatening looks had lost all their power over him... She sighed and examined the palm of his hand a moment before answering, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I miss you. When you're not around, I miss you. Happy?"

His answer was a large satisfied grin. Then he grew serious again.

"I miss you too Kate."

They watched each other in silence for a moment, their hands playing together on their own accord.

"Can I say something?" he didn't wait for her approval and continued "You won't always be able to protect me Kate. If my incident served any purpose it was to show us that I don't need to be at work to be in danger. We live in New-York for Christ sake! If you wanted to protect me all the time you'd have to stay by my side twenty-four seven... Actually... come to think of it, I wouldn't mind that!"

The look she gave him reminded him to stay focused on his point.

"What I mean is that shadowing you at work does not put me in any more danger than walking down the street at night. If anything I'm actually safer being by your side wouldn't you say?"

"But when you're around, I'm constantly worried that something may happen to you" she countered "and... I can't afford the distraction Rick. We've seen how bad it was when I worked Amy's case... I I wanted so badly, no, I _needed_ so badly to catch the guys who had hurt you, I completely botched my murder investigation... I can't make that mistake again."

He took her second hand and placed them both on his chest.

"First of all, we already talked about this. You have nothing to feel guilty about when it comes to that murder and, may I remind you that in the end you caught the bad guy? Second point... you only worry about me when I'm around?" he asked with a mock outraged voice.

"Richard..." she warned.

He smiled and placed her hands on his knees.

"Kate can I ask you something?" again, he did not wait for her answer to ask "would you give your life for Ryan and Esposito?"

"Of course but..."

"Right. You'd give your life for them because they are your partners, just like you'd risk your life for me because I, too, am your partner. It's what you do. It's who you are. The situation is exactly the same for them as it is for me, except you didn't sleep with Ryan and Esposito."

He frowned.

"You didn't sleep with Ryan and Esposito, right?"

"Castle!"

"Just cheking. Face it Kate, there is no way I'm gonna stop shadowing you and any way... you miss me too much when I'm gone..."

A wink. And smile.

"You'd take a bullet for me and I'll keep coming out of the car. Let's just accept that we are both romantic fools who would die for each other and move on. I promise I won't tell anyone if you don't." he concluded with a wicked smile.

_She'd never cease to be amazed at his ability to go from a serious conversation to being a complete idiot. She'd never stop loving him for it._

"It's as simple as that, huh?"

"Why not?"

_Yes, why not?  
_

He leaned closer to her and she felt his warm lips against hers. She immediately responded to his kiss and very quickly their tongues found each other once again, tasting, exploring.

When they drew apart, he put a hand on each side of her face and admired her.

_She saw that look again in his eyes, caring, tender, full of admiration. She liked the way he looked at her. She didn't know what he saw in her, she didn't get his fascination, but she liked it._

"You are so beautiful" he whispered.

His words sent shivers down her spine and made her blush at the same time.

When he traced the outline of her lips with a finger, she parted them slightly and captured his index in her mouth. Her eyes locked into his, she swirled her tongue around his finger, sucking and licking it like a Popsicle. She gave him a very satisfied smile when she saw the undeniable arousal on his face.

Changing her position on the couch, she drew closer to Richard and he unfolded his legs, seating upright on the couch. She took advantage of his new position to sit on him, straddling his thighs.

She threaded her fingers in his hair as he placed his on her back. She leaned down and their mouths met again for a dance they now knew by heart.

She felt his hands slide under her blouse and the contact of his hands on her flesh triggered a wave of desire that rippled through her body. She instantly started unbuttoning her blouse, the need to feel his naked flesh against hers growing stronger with each of his caresses.

He understood her needs and as she frantically undid her buttons, he lifted his own t-shirt and discarded it on the floor where her blouse quickly joined it.

She put both her hands on his torso, caressing him gently. She stopped when her fingers touched one of the two scars on his side. She had probably seen them before, but she hadn't paid any attention to them the first time. She brushed them lightly, one at a time, feeling a slight pang in her heart.

He saw her bite her lip, a sign he recognized too well.

He stroked her cheek tenderly, replacing a few strands of hair behind her ear in the process.

"Kate?"

She looked up at him.

"Are you okay."

She simply nodded, her hand still resting on his scars.

He slid his hand from her cheek along her jawline. She tilted her head back, allowing his hand to continue down her neck, onto her shoulder. He found a strap and slowly pushed it off her shoulder before continuing his caresses along her collarbone until he reached the rim of her dark-blue bra. He glided a finger along its edges across her chest to the other shoulder; when he found the other strap he pushed it off as well.

His mouth replaced his fingers and he followed the same path from her shoulder, along her bra, to her other shoulder, leaving behind a trail of fiery kisses.

He could feel her flesh turning hot under his lips, he could see her chest rising and falling faster and he heard her moan.

"Richard..."

Her voice, hoarse with desire, calling his name, pleading...

His hands circled around her back to unhook the superfluous piece of clothing.

When she was free from it, she leaned backwards slightly while he held her with own arm; with his other hand, he explored the newly exposed flesh. And soon enough, his mouth replaced his hand.

She slid her hands behind his shoulders, digging her fingers into his flesh, each flick of his tongue on her skin fueling her rapidly growing desire.

When he felt her hips starting to move above him, his arousal reached a new level that couldn't be denied anymore. He folded his arms around her waist, tightly holding her and got up, lifting her in his arms as he rose.

She let out a surprised yelp and promptly wrapped her legs around him.

She stared down at him, clearly stunned and slightly impressed.

"Richard Castle... you are full of surprises."

He smiled proudly.

As he took her to his bedroom, she explored his neck with her tongue, allowing for a welcome distraction from the pain that was shooting from his side and shoulder, obviously unhappy about the strain they were subjected to so early into his recovery.

When they finally reached the bedroom, he sat her down on the edge of his bed.

From her seated position, her hands quickly latched onto the buttons of his pants, undid them and slid the garment down his legs.

From there, her focus was drawn again to the two scars just above his hips. She pulled him closer and lay tender kisses on each of them.

The feel of her wet lips so low along his abdomen made him shiver in pleasure. He leaned over her, forcing her down on the bed. He started unbuttoning her jeans and as she crawled backwards on the bed, he slid them off her legs and sent them on top of his pants.

He wanted to observe her a moment, taking in her undeniable beauty as she lay there, naked, on his bed. He wanted to memorize every line, every detail of her body, exploring it with his fingers, his lips, his tongue... But the sight of the stunning woman he had desired for so long, loved for so long waiting for him to kiss her and take her was too much for him and he lay himself on top of her.

He stopped a few inches away from her face and stared deep into her green eyes. His heaven, his refuge.

"Kate..." he whispered, tenderly stroking her cheek "will you still be here in the morning?"

She slid her hands behind his neck, forcing him down to her and kissed him lovingly.

"I promise" she answered in a breathe as she captured his mouth once more in a passionate kiss.


	11. Epilogue

**So... This story is complete. The fact is, I wanted to write a story to bring them together and well... they're together. **

**Thank you so much for all your wonderful and encouraging reviews. This was my first time posting and sharing a story of mine and I'm so glad you liked it. I honestly hadn't planned on writing that many chapters in the first place, but your reviews encouraged me to do so. I even thought of adding more chapters... But I've taken this particular story where I wanted it to go and that's that. **  
**But I have had such a good time writing for those characters I wouldn't be surprised if I wrote another story in the near future :)**

**Onto the last chapter then...**

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

She turned around in her sleep, and unconsciously sought the warmth of the body lying next to hers. But when her hand touched cold sheets, she opened an eye and frowned at the empty bed side.

_Seriously? Was this a vengeance thing?_

She looked at the clock. Ten past three.

_He had better not be out in the streets again!_

She got out of bed and wrapped the burgundy sheet around her body as cover, having absolutely no idea where her clothes had ended up. She stepped out of the bedroom and padded through the apartment, looking for the man who should have been by her side.

When she reached the living-room, she immediately saw the light coming from his office and walked to it.

He was frantically hitting the keys on the keyboard, frustrated by his fingers' inability to keep up with the flow of ideas that was rushing through his brain. He was so absorbed in his writing he did not see her approach. It's only when she cleared her throat to announce her presence that he looked up and saw her there, standing in the doorway of his office... wrapped in his sheet.

_He thought of a dream at first. What else could it be? How else could he explain her presence? He had dreamed of this very moment so many times before it was difficult for him to believe she was actually there, in his apartment, in the middle of the night, wearing close to nothing on her back. _

He welcomed her with a large, warm smile and she responded in kind.

_She was really here. And she wasn't going anywhere._

"What are you doing up at this hour?" he asked her.

"I could ask you the same question."

He looked at his screen then back at her.

"I...Hmm...I needed to write."

She stepped into the room closer to his desk.

"And it couldn't wait until tomorrow?"

He bit his tongue in guilt.

"I... was inspired. I just had to write my new ideas."

She gave him an amused smile. And he fell a little more in love with her.

"Are you gonna be long?"

"I..."

_He studied her a moment. The way the lamp on his desk cast its light on her face highlighted the feature of her face. All the words in the world could never properly describe the perfection that was Kate Beckett. Her hair fell freely on each side of her face, resting on her bare shoulders. Half-asleep, with tangled hair, wrapped in a sheet, he found her more beautiful than ever. Completely irresistible._

_Well, almost._

_He was a writer. She was his muse. And seeing this flawless woman in front of him gave him more inspiration than any writer could ever dream of. His fingers were itching to type. He looked at his screen and at the number of pages he had written during the night... more than he had written in a month._

"I just want to finish this chapter."

_She was slightly disappointed,yes but she also understood the man, of more precisely the writer sitting behind his computer._

_She knew from a reliable source that he hadn't written in a while. She was happy for him that he had found his inspiration again. And rather proud to know that she had something to do with it._

She gave him another smile.

"Alright then."

She started to walk away but turned around, pointing a threatening finger at him.

"But Rick... if I read _anything_ about 'pineapples' in that new book of yours, I'll make sure the next body to drop dead in New-York, is yours."

And then she disappeared.

He looked at the sentence written on his screen.

_Well, at least he'd die happy._

_

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_

**THE END ^^**

**Did you catch the "Naked Heat" reference? If you didn't, you need to get your hands on a copy of the book, asap!**

**Anyhow, thanks again for all the reviews, you guys are amazing!  
**


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